


Butterflies and Hurricanes

by lonelysaucer



Category: DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 08:04:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelysaucer/pseuds/lonelysaucer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A trip through Kansas causes the Wayne family to happen upon something special.</p><p>AU of the Elseworlds: Speeding Bullets comic</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have zero claim to anything that exists within the DC Universe.
> 
> Praise to mithen for being a great beta :)

A ship is flung through space, past blazing planets and cooling stars, away from the destruction of a once-proud race.  
  
The baby inside travels alone, without soothing words or a parent’s loving touch, accompanied only by remains, jagged and sharp. They're beautiful in their own right, but nothing compared to the exquisite landscapes of Krypton.  
  
Still, Kal-El slumbers peacefully and the ship carries on.  
  
*  
  
The night seemed to pulse with life. Crickets chirped to an underlying beat of the Earth, and a southerly wind wove past the corn, playful and whistling to an on going tune.  The wind travelled over fresh autumn fields and down a solitary dirt road, joined by the sound of crunching gravel and a purring 1945 Rover P2.  
  
“Look, Bruce, a shooting star,” Martha Wayne said, her finger pointing skywards. Bright blue eyes stared in wonder and he wiggled in his mother’s lap, little arms stretching.  
  
A tinkling laugh dragged Bruce’s attention into ocean blue eyes. His nose crinkled and his face lit up with adoration.  
“Want star.” Bruce motioned to the sapphire diamonds glimmering from their perches in the sky, with no moon to share their glory.  
  
“Well Br-Alfred!” The seat belt caught Martha as the car skidded to a stop, her arms clinging tightly to her baby. A large shape crashed 30 yards away, tremors from the impact vibrating through the ground and causing the car to rattle and tip. Dirt rained down harmlessly, stray stones scratching the paint and windows.  
  
“Alfred? Do you require medical attention?” Thomas Wayne called from the back seat, frantically checking his wife and son for signs of damage.  
  
“Rather nasty shock if I do say so myself.  However, I am quite all right, Master Wayne. Mistress Wayne and Master Bruce?”  
  
“We are fine thank you, Alfred” Martha said softly, absentmindedly stroking Bruce’s hair as he hugged her, gaze fixed on the crater.  
  
“Very good, ma'am”   
  
The right door was slightly jammed, needing a hard shove before it opened.  
  
Stepping out, Thomas offered a hand to his wife, steadying her on the uneven gravel while Alfred reset a windscreen wiper. A few dry leaves sizzled, infant flames flickering in and out, fighting for life.  
  
“Dear Lord!” Thomas exclaimed, knees weak at the sight. Walking forward, he held up a hand to Martha. “Martha, stay back with Bruce.  Whatever it is could be dangerous!”  
  
“I want to see, Tom.”  
  
A catch was released on sleek metal, the oval pod splitting to reveal a yawning baby. Brilliant blue-green eyes blinked and focused on the surrounding area, taking in the overwhelming picture.  
  
Carefully Martha made her way to the ship, stumbling slightly. “Martha!”  
  
“Hush, Tom,” she replied, reaching the bottom of the crater with Bruce. Thomas quickened his pace, wanting to ensure his family’s safety, until they all stood together.  
  
Martha gasped, a free hand covering her mouth “It’s a boy, a beautiful baby boy.”  
Wrapping an arm carefully around his mother’s neck and securing his legs on her silk-clad hips, Bruce leaned down, fingers brushing the baby’s.  
  
“Here’s your little star, Bruce,” she said breathlessly.  
  
Blue eyes shot with sun speckled ice fill with a strange intensity, a protective edge to his voice, “Mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was started back in 2007 when I was just starting to venture away from fluffy drabbles, unfortunately I've since lost all my notes/chapter drafts so I doubt it'll ever be finished.


	2. Chapter 1

Sitting on an indoor ledge next to high-set windows with the curtains held back in neat knots, Martha and Thomas talked quietly. As they talked, they watched the boys play close by, Bruce gathering all his toys to show off without ever venturing too far from their newest addition.

“I contacted Lucius this morning, he’ll have the documents ready in a few days. Meanwhile we'll have to come with a suitable story--you know how those high society women are. They’ll nit pick at anything,” Thomas said in a low tone, cupping Martha’s cheek. “We are making the right choice, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are…but once we do this there’s no turning back, Tom. I need to know that this is what you want too.”

“It is, Martha.” A small smile curved his lips. 

Martha covered Thomas’ hand with her own. Their fingers intertwined and Martha squeezed gently. 

Pulling away, Martha knelt gracefully beside the boys, rummaging through the mountain of teddies till she found a bear dressed in pink, the one her mother had given her. Holding the fluffy toy in front of her face, Martha peeked over the bear's head, ducking again when she caught her sons’ attention. 

Bruce blinked and crawled into her lap, tugging at the bear’s paw. “Boo!” Martha made the bear squeak. Surprised, Bruce attempted to get away, but his mother had other ideas, enjoying the uncontrollable giggles Bruce produced when she tickled his tummy.

She played along with them both until Alfred came in at four, delivering a light snack and tea before dinner. He politely declined the offer to sit, assessing the two or three scattered books and the Cowboy and Indian figures paused in mid-fight, though visibly itching to tidy them up. The shelves needed a good dusting also. Otherwise the light grass-green playroom was perfectly immaculate. 

“Have you decided on a name?” Alfred inquired.

Martha paused, staring thoughtfully at her husband. “Clark,” she said firmly. “After Clark Gable.” 

Thomas’ eyes lightened. He admired the actor greatly, as Martha well knew. The amount of times his wife had listened to him praise the man’s skill were innumerable.

*

They used the patterned plates and kept the two red candle wicks unlit, preferring the clearer light from the crystal chandeliers.

Bruce ate his chicken calmly and even attempted to remember the proper uses for the silverware, Thomas only had to correct him a few times. When Martha focused on feeding Clark - the aeroplane spoon a great source of amusement - the older Wayne boys poked at their greens, “They’ll get no dessert if they don’t eat their vegetables, isn’t that right Clark?” Martha cooed, and Clark gurgled in agreement.

Overall, dinner was a comfortable affair, and they avoided any unnecessary mess. 

Thomas helped Martha put the children in Bruce’s room, tucking a sleepy-eyed Clark into a cot Alfred had set up earlier. 

Martha pecked Bruce on his forehead and stroked his black hair, whispering, “Love you, sweetheart,” and closing the door on her way out. 

Wishing Martha goodnight, Thomas walked to his study, preferring to sit and read by the fire before bed. 

As usual he found a cigar lit and his brandy glass filled, Alfred standing patiently in the corner.

Relaxing in his leather chair, Thomas contemplated the recent events and the changing of his family.

“Alfred…Do you approve of our actions?” Thomas asked suddenly, smoke billowing around his face.

“It is not my place to say, Sir,” the butler replied adamantly.

“Come, Alfred, humour me.” 

“Sir, I have been loyal to the Wayne family for some years now and I will continue to support you no matter what decisions you make.” Thomas gave a resigned sigh; Alfred could be so stubborn on these matters.

“Though, just so we are clear, Master Wayne: I don’t think that young lad could have two more suitable parents.” With a perfunctory nod, Alfred set off to finish the day’s chores, whistling a merry tune under his breath.


	3. Chapter 2

Martha watched as her husband, encircled by medical books, knelt on the hardwood floor of his office, scribbling notes in a journal and flipping through marked pages. His clothes looked rumpled and hastily thrown on. His face was darkened by the bags under his eyes and the early beginnings of stubble.   
Morpheus, it seemed, was  taking a short vacation from their home, taking with him blissful rest ;  neither had received much sleep within the last few days, both too wrapped in silent worries. Not even the comfort of each other’s arms could help, though the knowledge that they could lean on their other half no matter what the circumstance lessened the weight of doubts and strengthened them both.   
  
Martha had been mildly disappointed to find Thomas gone in the morning, but she could understand his urge to find an answer as soon as possible, to settle down and begin their new life.   
At the moment their busy schedule left them with little time to spend enjoying the boys’ company:  Thomas struggling on an important decision that his research hindered more than helped, and Martha taking up the unfortunate duty of letting the staff go.   
High society still had some hang-ups about people they deemed beneath them, so the necessary calls were made to those she knew would be kind and generous to her ex-employees.  
  
“Lucius will be arriving soon.”  
  
Thomas let out a ‘hmmm’ of acknowledgment, never lifting his head from the book he was currently buried in. Clucking her tongue, Martha informed her husband that it was not polite to ignore one’s wife.   
A pink flush crept into his cheeks.  
“I’m sorry.”   
Smiling affectionately, Martha made her way  through the mine field of scattered books until she was hugging Thomas from behind.   
“Don’t worry,” Martha sighed, “I know how anxious this decision is making you. Has any progress been made at all?”  
Thomas shook his head in the negative. “It was a long shot anyway.”  
Martha wished she could offer some sort of input, however science had never been her strongest point.  
The dilemma they were having was whether or not Clark should be given vaccinations in a few years' time. Clark was, presumably, from another planet – “One can never tell these days, Master Wayne, it could be possible that young Master Clark is from the future” was Alfred’s offhand comment.   
Wherever Clark came from didn’t change the fact that the vaccinations held to many variables and not getting Clark vaccinated could be equally dangerous.  
“What do you think we should do?” Martha asked.  
“Give Lucius a blood sample and see what the tests come up with. It’s the best thing we can do right now.”  
Kissing his wife’s neck, Thomas loosened her arms so he could stand, pulling Martha with him as he rose. Martha laughed, remembering Lucius’ expression when  they told him their discovery. He had practically collapsed from the shock.  
  
Thomas cocked his head to the side, considering Martha with a gentle smile. “Have I told you how much I adore you lately?”  
“Yes, but you can tell me again if you want.”  
  
*  
  
Standing with the aid of the wooden cot bars, Clark tried to touch the coloured blobs revolving above his head. His efforts having no success, Clark’s interest turned to another source of amusement.   
Reaching through the bars, Clark patted Bruce’s arm to gain his attention, the feel of cotton warm and comfortable to Clark’s fingers.  
Happily turning to flash his new brother a bright grin, Bruce dropped the plastic horse in his hand, letting it fall to the floor.  
  
Of to the side Alfred watched over them with a sharp eye, making sure neither got into trouble. He was about to rise from his red cushioned chair when he saw  Bruce picking up the forgotten horse and moving it away from Clark’s wandering hands.   
It was quite sweet, seeing the two boys interact; one would never think that they’d been together for less than a week.     
  
“Alfred,” Thomas called, “Martha would like you to take Bruce out to the gardens while we take care of Clark.”  
  
Having heard his father’s request, Bruce glared mulishly, shifting closer to the cot. “It will only be for a short while, and after that your mother and I will join you. We can have a small picnic, how does that sound?” Thomas asked, kneeling down to same level as his son. Finally Bruce nodded, forlornly stumbling over to Alfred and taking his hand.   
  
“Come now, Master Bruce,” said Alfred,  “it will not be so bad, and Master Clark will be down with us before you know it.”   
  
Lifting Clark from the cot, Thomas mumbled a quick apology, not looking forward to what he was about to do next


End file.
